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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193139">I haven't seen enough of this world yet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporeshroom/pseuds/sporeshroom'>sporeshroom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hollow Knight (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, hornet takes a moment to think about what she wants from life and why she cant have it, rip cornifers map</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:27:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporeshroom/pseuds/sporeshroom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hornet makes it to the City of Tears long before The Knight, and nearly spears a bug with her normal travel method.</p><p>or</p><p>She may not realise it yet, but Hornet has just made a friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hornet &amp; Cornifer, Hornet &amp; Herrah (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“…Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” The strange traveller says to her, slowly. “Though I do think I recognise you from back in Greenpath. You rushed right by me. Still in a hurry I suppose?” His hands are shaking so badly.</p><p> </p><p>Hornet’s needle is out of reach, pinning a sheet of paper to the opposite wall. The silk thread is still in her hands. She hadn’t expected anything to be at the other end when she threw her weapon like a grapnel. It must have speared the form straight out of the bug’s hands.</p><p> </p><p>He was lucky his limbs were all still attached.</p><p> </p><p>“…My apologies. These halls have been empty for so long,” she eventually decides to say. “Even the husks do not come through here anymore. I have not needed to check for decades.” Hornet still has to retrieve her needle, and it will be easier without the ire of this stranger; though he seems the good-humoured type.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose that is fair, though I was a bit shaken…” He begins to shuffle through the papers littering the floor around him, until he finds one that must meet his criteria. “Hm. I will have to begin again, but this will do.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you making?” Hornet asks, easing closer. He seems friendly. So do nosks.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! I’ve forgotten to introduce myself again, haven’t I? My name is Cornifer, and I am a cartographer by trade,” he waves at the mass of paper spilled over the floor. On closer inspection, each one of them bears some sort of marking; some just a few lines, and some a mass of scribbles. “My wife and I moved here some months ago. I dream of mapping the whole kingdom, and I suspect I still have a ways to go before we move on.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. Is this crater a pitstop for you then?” Hornet has never gone far beyond the cliffs. Every trip outside the rock walls, she feels the desire to leave Hallownest like a magnetic pulse driving her to <em>abandon</em> this dying kingdom. But she can never leave.</p><p> </p><p>“Less a pitstop, more a stage of my life. I have always loved to travel so I don’t like to think of my life as a series of pitstops. It’s not like anywhere I go is less important to me than the next. What about you? I didn’t get your name, if you’re willing to give it.”</p><p> </p><p>It couldn’t hurt. By now, she can tell this bug is without nail or needle. Not defenceless, per say, but weaponless at least. “I am Hornet. Protector of Hallownest’s ruins.”</p><p> </p><p>If she needs, she can use the thread still in her hands for a thread storm that would catch this bug right in the centre. Or she could yank her weapon from the wall, and pull it back to her; the blade would likely catch his shell on the way back and crack it.</p><p> </p><p><em>It’s fine</em>, she reminds herself. <em>No need for that yet</em>. <em>No need for that at all</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The worst Cornifer does is to side eye the cracked wall, where her needle found its lodging. “Protector of the ruins?” he asks. “That is an…illustrious title. I’m sure you would have many stories of this old kingdom.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not all ruins are worth protecting.” Hornet tells him. “And not all stories are worth remembering. I have never been fond of the City of Tears, and not of this sector especially.” She doesn’t know why she tells him. The Soul Sanctum hangs above their heads, only walls away. This bug isn’t even aware of how many altered beasts wail above him, but she knows.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that what this city is called?” He seems willing to leave her her secrets. “Usually there is some signage, or someone to ask, but I admit I still struggle with the language here. Like most, it’s just a variation of some other, but it’s just different <em>enough</em> that some words escape me,” he remarks.</p><p> </p><p>Again, that same curiosity from outside the crater emerges. Hornet would love to know, personally, how the languages of other places differ. Would love to read something other than the Pale King’s carvings, or the words of dead bugs.</p><p> </p><p>How lucky this bug is, to travel as he does. Hornet’s mother lies sleeping, her body statue-still in what had been the living room of her childhood home. Herrah had been a twitching, restless sleeper. In this sleep, even her chest barely moved with her breath.</p><p> </p><p>Cornifer is still going. “That most of the signs are waterlogged, or washed off, hardly helps.”</p><p> </p><p>“It is poor architecture,” Hornet agrees. Cornifer smiles at that.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, fed up with waiting, and sure now that there’s nothing to fear, she leaps to the other side of the room. With one great tug, her needle comes clean from the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen…there is a door marked with a silver mask above the frame. I would recommend not to enter. The work Hallownest’s power hungry performed all happened there. It is sickening, and still dangerous for one unarmed.” She’s not sure why she warned him. She is the protector of Hallownest’s ruins, not of its people. The only bugs she had an obligation to were those of Deepnest and—</p><p> </p><p>And nothing.</p><p> </p><p>She turns away. Throws her needle to the next wall. “I must go now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I understand,” Cornifer says. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe if we meet again you will have a story worth remembering for me.”</p><p> </p><p>She pauses. Considers. “Perhaps you can trade me for one from your time in other lands,” she says. Her silk threadline glints, and she is gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the floor tiling 😭😭 its fine it looks naked if i leave the floor blank</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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